


Stagnating

by aye_of_newt



Category: The Umbrella Academy (TV)
Genre: (VERY lightly) Implied/Referenced Child Abuse, Angst, Drug Addiction, Implied/Referenced Attempted Suicide, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Kill Your Darlings, Other, and another oc - Freeform, and resurrect them for the b roll, deleted scene from Revolving Evolving, featuring John the rehab worker, mentions of mental hospital, the oc is the character death
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-02
Updated: 2019-03-02
Packaged: 2019-11-07 21:28:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,305
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17968376
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aye_of_newt/pseuds/aye_of_newt
Summary: (Deleted scene fromRevolving, Evolving)Klaus meets a kid in rehab and learns what it's like to be on the other side of addiction.





	Stagnating

**Author's Note:**

> This was originally written as part of Revolving, Evolving...but then it (obviously) got really long. I cut it after I realized that this mini-fic was too distracting from the main storyline and didn't work with what I wanted to achieve in the story. But I still liked the writing and I didn't want to totally throw out all the work I did- so here we are.
> 
> In the Revolving, Evolving timeline, this piece was supposed to cover the fifth through seventh relapses. It starts very similarly to its correlating scene in the official work with the leather pants and boa. I would imagine that it would reconnect with "canon" after Klaus' twenty-first birthday. 
> 
> (NOTE: As this is a "deleted scene", I do not consider it part of the Vague AU "canon", which is why it is not tagged as part of the series.)

  
In what John half expected to be a deliberate choice, Klaus more than made up for his last lackluster arrival with his fifth entrance to the facility. He waltzed in dressed in a lime green boa and leather pants so tight, John was convinced he’d only been allowed to wear them because no one had been able to get the damn things off.  
Klaus grinned when he saw John, admitting he was glad that John was still there. “Most of the other staff are in and out of here more than me,” he joked, grinning. When he smiled, John could almost see the seventeen-year-old kid he’d had so much faith in.

“Yeah, well, I stay for you,” John replied, and wondered if it was unprofessional that that wasn’t entirely untrue.

By then, Klaus had the program memorized well enough that he barely had to pay attention to know when to speak and what he was expected to do. Watching him stare blankly into space during group, John began to accept that there was nothing he could do to stop Klaus from destroying himself. And judging by the way Klaus’ eyes followed invisible objects more often than the real people around him, the drugs had already begun to rot away his brain.

***

Halfway through Klaus’ stay, another kid got check in, not much older than Klaus had been the first time he came through. But this time there were no flirtatious winks or handstands. Instead, the kid stayed tight-lipped and so curled in on himself it looked painful. He wasn’t part of John’s group, and all he knew from the other staff was that the kid was a screamer. He’d gotten on the bad side of his roommates on the first night for waking them up at two in the morning. John had personally never heard the kid make a sound.  
Klaus seemed to notice the kid too, his eyes tracking something that was actually there for once, and John was relieved that he wasn’t too far gone yet.

Over the next week, Klaus seemed to make it his mission to get the kid out of his shell. At meal times, he plopped down directly next to him, chatting away while he was stared at with wide eyes. He followed him through the hallways any time he was free, talking about anything and everything that crossed his mind, not needing any response to keep the "conversation" going for hours. During rounds, Klaus pretended to hide behind the kid, never minding that he was over a head taller as he stage whispered, “Cover for me.” At first, his antics appeared to have no effect, the only thing of note being that Klaus didn’t seem to annoy the kid like he did most other people.

Then, during break time four days in, Klaus stole the remote from a group of the older residents and flipped through the channels, asking what the kid wanted to watch. When he got no response, he watched the kid’s face instead, stopping when he saw a slight change in his expression.

“Sweet,” Klaus said, flopping backwards onto the couch. “Discovery Channel rocks.”

The kid smiled shyly and relaxed a fraction, turning his attention to the tv. Klaus sat next to him for the entire documentary, making the occasional comment while keeping his longer ramblings to the commercial breaks. Every once in a while, he would throw in a question towards the kid, and seemingly without noticing, he answered. In this slow and casual way, John watched as Klaus gleaned more information from the kid in forty-five minutes than most of the staff had in almost a week.

It was also Klaus who got the boy to speak for the first time in group the next day. They had been discussing reasons to get sober when Klaus shared, “My name is Klaus and I am an addict.”

“Klaus,” the group leader sighed, “I told you that’s not how we run group here. You don’t have to say it every time.”

He ignored her and continued, “And also probably an alcoholic. I want to get sober because it’s my goal to win the Nobel Prize in physics by the time I’m twenty-five, and I’ve realized that I really need to stop getting high and start learning what physics is if I’m going to make that deadline.” The group leader sighed again, but before she could say anything, Klaus turned to his right and addressed the kid. “What about you, Sam? I bet you could go for Math and then we’d be a doubly-inspirational story. We could probably co-write an autobiography: How We-HAB Saved Each Other.” He winked and the kid blushed.

“Hi, my name is Sam,” he started quietly.

"Thank you for speaking, Sam, but like I said—”

The leader was cut off by a chorus of “Hello, Sam” from the other residents. She appeared to give up and just gestured to Sam to keep talking.

He blushed and whispered, “And I want to get clean so I can go to college.”

The group clapped, Klaus louder than anyone. “See?” he told Sam, ginning, “I knew you were a smart one.”

Sam blushed, but smiled back.

“Thanks.”

  
***

  
Two nights later, John was working one of his rare night shifts when the screaming started. He had been warned about Sam’s nightmares, but the sudden noise still caught him off guard. Ignoring the residents who complained in gruff voices about being woken up, John hurried down the hallway to Sam’s room. The screaming had stopped but he needed to check on the kid to make sure everything was ok.

As he approached the door, he saw that it was already open a crack, and he heard the low murmur of a voice coming from inside. Gently pushing the door open, John saw the hunched figure of Sam sitting on the floor, his arms wrapped tightly around his knees and his shoulder-length blond hair falling over his face. His breath was coming in short, uneven gasps that still verged on hyperventilation. Crouched in front of him and speaking in a calming voice was Klaus.

“Hey, hey, hey,” he soothed. “You’re ok. You’re at rehab, remember? I’m just your friend Klaus. Everything is safe here, ok?”  
Sam slowly looked up and Klaus raised his hands to show he meant no harm. Sam’s breath caught but he nodded jerkily to show he understood.

“Ok, good,” Klaus continued, “You’re doing fine. You just need to slow down the breathing ok? If you keep going like that you’re going to get light headed and they’ll make you pee in a cup.” Klaus smiled to show he was joking. Sam appeared to try and copy him but wasn’t quite able to manage.

“Ok? So just copy me, ok? In,” Klaus took a deep breath, “Out.” He let out a dramatic whoosh. “In. Out. In. Out.” Sam took a few ragged breaths, trying to copy. 

“Can I take your hand?” Klaus asked seriously. After a quick nod, Klaus gently clasped Sam’s hand and brought it to his chest. “Just feel how I’m doing it,” he said, continuing to take deep, steady breaths. After a few moments, Sam’s breathing began to slow down and Klaus smiled. “Really good, Sam.” The kid blushed and pulled his hand away.

He wiped quickly at his eyes and looked towards the ground. “Sorry,” he choked out. “I’m acting like such a kid.”

“You don’t have to apologize, Sam,” Klaus said quietly but firmly. “I’m older than you and I have nightmares too. And I’m a much bigger mess than you when I wake up.”

Sam looked at him quickly. “What do you have nightmares about?”

Klaus hesitated, “My father,” he admitted. “And about when my brother died. And,” he paused again, “ _other_ things.” It was quiet for a moment before Klaus asked, “What do you dream about?”

Sam averted his gaze as he whispered, “I dream about my father too.”

John didn’t miss the expression of pain that flickered across Klaus’ face before he spoke, “Considering how well we get along, maybe our fathers will be friends in hell someday.” Sam laughed shakily and Klaus nudged him encouragingly. “Let's get ourselves cleaned up prove those bastards wrong. Sound like a deal?” he asked, holding out his hand to Sam.

“Deal,” Sam agreed, shaking on it. Klaus gently pulled on his arm and brought Sam into a hug, tucking the kid’s head under his chin. He didn’t say anything as his shoulder grew damp, only gently patting the boy’s back. He finally noticed John staring at him from the doorway and gave a slight nod in his direction. John nodded back and slowly closed the door. The situation was handled.

The next morning, no one said anything except to compliment Sam’s hair, which was pulled into a somewhat stubby french braid. 

“Thanks,” he blushed, “Klaus did it for me.”

The conversation turned back to the terrible quality of the breakfast food, with even Sam pitching in to bemoan the lack of Lucky Charms.

***

When Klaus was released a few days later, Sam was there along with John to see him off. Klaus was grinning madly as he called his usual dramatic goodbyes to the regulars, and didn’t let his cheer falter when he met Sam’s gloomy expression. Instead, he removed the  boa he’d just been given back and tossed it around Sam’s shoulders.

"Of course,” he said with a wink. “I have saved the best for last. Ce la vie, darling.” Klaus punctuated his farewell with a large air kiss on either side of Sam’s cheeks. “That’s French for goodbye,” he informed the bemused John. “I’m practicing for when Sam’s a big time architect who invites me to his fancy,” he held up a placating hand, “ _sober,_ parties.” Turning back to Sam, Klaus grabbed the end of his boa and tossed it around Sam’s neck with a flourish. “You’re going to fabulous, darling,” he drawled in his best, horrible, French accent.

Sam laughed and adjusted the boa so the feathers stopped tickling his nose. Klaus smiled before his expression grew more serious. His eyes flicked to John for a moment before he pulled a piece of paper out of his pocket.

“Here,” he told Sam gently, handing it to him. “If you ever need me, call this number. It’s my brother Diego’s because I don’t have my own, but I’ll get the message. And I’ll let him know to listen for you ok?” Klaus looked searchingly at Sam.

He didn’t seem able to look at Klaus directly, but he took the paper and nodded. “Thanks.” Throwing his arms quickly around Klaus, Sam hugged him tightly before letting go. “See you around,” he said brightly through his damp eyes. “Not here,” he added quickly, glancing at John. 

“Yeah, see you around Sam,” Klaus smiled and walked out, tossing one last wink over his shoulder.  
For a moment, John was reminded of the dream he’d once had for Klaus, and wondered if the universe really did work itself out.

***

Klaus stayed out of rehab longer than he had in years, long enough that John felt what seemed like hope for the first time since Klaus had started his chain of relapses.

It came to a crashing halt when the facility nurse pulled him aside.

He found Klaus slumped in a chair in the hallway, his skin ashen and blackened pits of exhaustion around his eyes, the evidence of his massive overdose clear. John was infuriated, not for the promise that had been broken to him, he was used to that, but for the betrayal of Sam. He stalked towards Klaus, and towered over him. His eyes barely flickered up to show he’d noticed.

“What the hell were you thinking, Klaus?” he demanded. “Not only are you using again, you washed down _half a bottle_ of oxy with _vodka_. I don’t understand what on _Earth_ compelled you to think that would be a fun time. And never mind what you did to yourself, what about Sam, Klaus? What about him?” At the mention of Sam’s name Klaus flinched. Hoping he had gotten through, John stared at Klaus, waiting for him to explain.

Instead of speaking, Klaus extended a crumpled piece of newspaper, his eyes never leaving the ground. John straightened it and felt his gut drop. The scrap had been cut from the obits.

_Samuel Peters, 18_

“He did it first,” Klaus rasped, staring with dead eyes at the empty air somewhere behind John. There was a long silence before he spoke again. “Obviously, it didn’t work out right on me. But then when have I ever gotten something right?” Klaus’ head listed to the side, his eyes half-lidded as he spoke to the air. “You little shit,” he murmured, “You know you were the brains. I’m shit at math.”

It was Klaus’ shortest stay in rehab.

 

***

  
Klaus had only been out of the psych ward for three days before he was sitting in front of John again. His eyes were glazed over as he stared at nothing, his skeletal body propped up only by the support of the chair he was slouched in. He gave no reaction as John walked up to stand beside him. After calling his name several time, John finally had to nudge Klaus’ arm to get his attention. At the touch, Klaus jerked so violently he banged his skinny arm against the chair hard enough to bruise, not that there was any padding there to protect him.

“Sorry!” John said hastily, moving to help him. Klaus drew back and looked at him accusingly. His large eyes seemed to swallow up his concave face.

“You sent me there,” he whispered.

John froze, then drew back. “I’m sorry,” he repeated, “I had to”.

They did not speak again that visit.

 

**Author's Note:**

> Small disclaimer: As I said with regards to rehab in Revolving, Evolving- I do not think that mental hospitals are bad/worthless. I just think that Klaus has a lot of issues and special circumstances that the average facility is not equipped to deal with. 
> 
> The National Suicide Prevention Lifeline: 1-800-273-TALK (8255)  
> A free, 24/7 confidential service that can provide people in suicidal crisis or emotional distress, or those around them, with support, information, and local resources.
> 
> Crisis Text Line: 741-741  
> This free text-message service provides 24/7 support to those in crisis. Text 741-741 to connect with a trained crisis counselor right away.
> 
> The National Drug Helpline offers 24/7 drug and alcohol help to those struggling with addiction. Call the national hotline for drug abuse today to receive information regarding treatment and recovery.  
> 1-888-633-3239


End file.
